What Made Me Love Him
by XxSarcastic Heartless Angel xX
Summary: Lily ponders how she fell for James.


Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter and all things related, and I envy her for it. \

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a fanfic, so don't hate me if it's not up to professional standards.

There was once a time when, at the suggestion that I give James Potter a chance, I would've voluntarily tossed myself off the Astronomy tower, such was my dislike towards the idiot. Since the first year at Hogwarts, all Potter had ever done to me was tease me, humiliate me, and torment me, sometimes all at once. The only reason I was able to plough through 5 years of his antics was because my tongue proved sharper than any survival knife, and frequently I would lunge insults at him, hitting him where it hurt. Of course, it would've been better if I'd physically hurt him, but he had the Quidditch muscle to defend himself, whereas I only had my wit to rely on. But something changed in our sixth year, and instead of repeatedly pestering me to go out with him, James seemed to stop being an arse.

By that time, I had come to expect a daily routine: he'd pester some innocent student in an attempt to impress me, I'd tell him off for it, he'd ask me out, and I'd shoot him down the most vicious way I could. And for a time, that was the routine, but when I returned to Hogwarts in my sixth year, I was greeted not with the arrogant toe rag that I had associated Potter with, but rather as a mature student who, for the most part, had given up on me altogether. Proof of this was in the fact that he stopped hounding me for a date, and almost completely ignored me, to a point where I felt almost shunned. He'd gone back to the Marauders, still retaining his newfound maturity, and somewhere along the way, I found myself making pros-and-cons lists in my head. Much to my horror, the pros list seemed to outdo the cons, and more than once I'd find myself in Transfiguration trying my damnedest not to look at Potter. I failed, miserably. I was relieved beyond imagination when summer arrived, because I was hoping that the lack of proximity between Potter and I would renew my previous hatred of him.

Unfortunately, my return to Hogwarts brought with it even more surprises. Headmaster Dumbledore, a man for whom I have nothing but awe and respect, had decided to bestow me the honour of Head Girl, and for a good portion of the week, I scratched my head trying to figure out why. Even more shocking, the Head Boy was none other than my self-sworn enemy, James Potter. When I did find out it was him, I was so shocked I think I fainted. Dumbledore was a man wise beyond his years, but Potter as Head Boy? Did that man overdose himself on Lemon Drops? Such thoughts had plagued my head all the way to the Head's Rooms, and once inside, I expected Potter to begin his blatant claims of affection for me. But none came, and once again, I found myself feeling rather miserable and alone. My friends, Dorcas and Marlene, insisted that this may have been because I had developed a crush on Potter, but I immediately, and most vehemently, shot that down. There was no way I had a crush on that insufferable prat Potter. Even if he wasn't as prattish as before.

If one good thing came out of the odd pairing of me and Potter as Heads, it was that I got to know him better as a person, and consequently, began to hate him less, to a point where we developed a mutual friendship. For my part, I actually relished it, and somewhere between Prefect Meetings and planning the Halloween Ball, I found myself liking James, wanting to go past our friendship. As I soon found out, Dorcas and Marlene were right, I was falling head over heels for the idiot, and more than once, he's catch me staring at him, and returned my look with a confused one of his own. By the time Christmas came around, I realized that this James Potter was not the one I had come to hate, but a different one altogether. In my blind dislike for him, I'd overlooked all his good qualities, favoring to judge only his flaws, which, really weren't as bad as I'd made them out to be. Subconsciously, I began to do something I never thought I would be doing: I began flirting with Potter. I must've caught the poor guy by surprise, because he'd look at me as though I just suffered a concussion. But the thing with me is, I'm terrible at expressing emotions, and where it would've been easier for me to just ask James out, I couldn't. We still spent time together, and not a day went by when I didn't wish I had said yes to him before.

Some deity above must've heard my thoughts, because on New Years Day, as I celebrated with all the other Gryffindors in the common room, James came right up behind me, and whispered in my ear the question I'd been waiting to hear for months on end: Lily, go out with me? Turning, I was met with stunning hazel eyes that pierced me. What I saw there convinced me that this man was the one I'd been waiting for my whole life. And as I sit here, snuggled in his arms, under a tree by the Lake, I see what it is that drew me to James Potter.

I love the warmth of his hazel eyes. The way they light up when he's excited. The way they seem so down when he's upset. I love the way they burn when we argue about some trivial matter or another, his passion evoking the green in his eyes to come out. I love that when he looks at me, I can't look away, because his eyes draw me in like a moth to the flame. Everyone loves to get lost in the perfect set of eyes, and I'd gladly lose myself in his forever. He has his flaws, but then, so do I. He still rumples his untamable hair, although the action is now more of an endearment. He is still arrogant, and a healthier ego cannot be found, but he's mature too. He's kind, and supportive of everyone he cared for, and more than once I wondered how I'd missed all this. And when he kisses me, one thought dominates all others before I lose myself completely:

Why the hell didn't I say yes sooner?

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